


The Song Remains the Same

by VeraBAdler



Series: Houses of the Holy [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fic, Fluff, Gen, Human Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 20:13:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2480948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeraBAdler/pseuds/VeraBAdler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is human now. What kind of a human is he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Song Remains the Same

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by "The Song Remains the Same", the first track on Led Zeppelin's _Houses of the Holy_ album. Listen [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LWYiddSs4wk).

Castiel becomes human, again, one more time. He falls. The Winchesters are there to catch him.

As a permanent part of the Winchester family, as a permanent resident of the Bunker, as a permanent rider in the Impala, Cas finds the comfort he'd missed since leaving Heaven. He is somewhere he belongs.

Being with Sam and Dean is better than Heaven, actually. In Heaven, every day was the same. Every task was the same. Every angel was the same. Heaven and its occupants are, by design, infinite and unchanging. Here, he can build something. Here, he can make decisions. Here, he can _become_.

He spends a week of days puttering in his room. He hangs up pictures clipped out of magazines, pictures of bees and flowers, sunsets and the ocean. He arranges and rearranges his few pieces of furniture. He ransacks the Bunker's linen closet, trying every patterned sheet he can find on his bed before settling on a cozy set in Egyptian cotton. His room is cluttered but comfortable. It's _his_ space.

He spends a week of meals trying new foods. Dean indulges every whim and every request, driving 90 minutes each way to the big grocery supercenter in Grand Island to stock up on weird produce, various cans and boxes from the “International” aisle, and seven different “variety packs” of oversweetened, marshmallow-laden cereal so Cas can pick his favorite. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner – every meal features a food that Castiel has heard of but never tasted. Dean spends hours in the kitchen, uses every pot they have, burns himself three times, and never stops grinning. By the time the week is over, Cas has a host of new favorite dishes, and Dean has a huge folder of recipe sites bookmarked on Sam's laptop.

He spends a weekend shopping for clothes. Sam takes him to every Goodwill and Salvation Army within a 100-mile radius. He sifts through both the men's and the women's racks, judging each item by its color and fabric. He tries on anything that catches his eye or feels soft to his hand. Along with the requisite jeans and Winchester-approved plaid flannel, he buys beautiful soft t-shirts in fuchsia and turquoise, several pairs of raucously patterned pajama-style pants to wear around the Bunker, warm novelty socks with monkeys and bumblebees on them, a few snug-fitting waistcoats, and three billowy peasant skirts that flare out wonderfully when he twirls.

He spends the summer cultivating the land behind the Bunker. He plants a vegetable garden – lettuce and cucumbers for Sam's salads, tomatoes and bell peppers for Dean's homemade pizzas, plus watermelon, sugar peas, and basil. He plants flowers – sunny marigolds, fragrant gardenias, cheerful pansies, and bee-friendly snapdragons and cosmos. He spends some of his happiest hours with his hands in the dirt and the sun warming his back.

Through trying and tasting and exploring, Castiel finds many things that he enjoys (and a few things he can't _stand_ , like raw spinach and itchy wool scarves). For the first time in his long life, he has opinions and preferences. He is discovering what he likes, and who he is.

He is becoming. He is changing. He is _growing_.

**Author's Note:**

> The lyrics that inspired this work:
>
>> I had a dream. Crazy dream.  
> Anything I wanted to know, any place I needed to go
>> 
>> Hear my song. People won't you listen now? Sing along.  
> You don't know what you're missing now.  
> Any little song that you know  
> Everything that's small has to grow.  
> 


End file.
